The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1887-10-05

The last of Chickamaugai All, MOI
Not the last; for as the little rear guard
reached the lower ground they came
upon their wounded comrades, who, too
badly hurt to go on to the rear, had vet
with untold agony dragged themselves
back from the fire swept ground in front,
and so got partial shelter. Along the
route these wretched sufferers Law thickly.
Here ono with an arm half torn off; there
a loot dangling; here poor fellow shot
through the body, his death a question
not OF hours, but of minutes; and so on,
in sickening continuance. And all want
ing watcrl There had been none all day.
and the retreating soldiers were march
ing with lips and tongues blackened
and swollen and cracked with thirst until
many could utter no articulate sound.
Boys, you won't go and leave us
here 2'
"For Gods sake, water! waterr"
Boys are you going on the retreat,
and leave us behind2n
You ought to hold the ground, boys.
till they take care of usr'
"Waterl water Don't let us die
hcre2"
Pitiful, pitiful appeals And all in
vain. Not a canteen of water in the
whole command. Not an ambulance
within miles. Nothing but victorious
foe behind, an unknown way in front,
and the blackness of night over all /
Pitiful, pitiful. Harder to face-these
rcproaches-than all of Bragg's artillery.
All! here is punishment Not only to
leave the field to the enemy, but to
abandon torn and bleeding brothers,
alsol
So thought the captain, riding in rear
of his little worn command. Presently
he heard well-known voice at the road
side, and pulled up his horse.
Good heavens, Majorl You here, and
hurtP cried the Captain, as he came
close to a PROSTATE figure at the road
side.
"Yes, Milney, Pm here. For Gods
sake get me drink of waterl" replied
the sufferer. And then went on eagerly
Is it a retreat, Captainl Have we lost it
alll Where are the ambulances and the
hospital trainsl Are all these poor
| fellows to be left to the enemy2 Why,
they can't take care of their own in this
wilderness, let alone ours 1t is cruel-it
is houiblel Get me drink, captain /;
get me drink That is all l shall ever
want. ! shall not get away from here"
Captain Milney dismounted. He had
a few precious drops of water in his can
teen-hoarded for hours against his own
thirst. His friend, Major Galton, he
found was shot in the breast-how badly
could not be told He was quickly re-
lieved so far as half dozen swallows of
the life giving water could do it.
'God bless you, Milneyr' he cried
you've done me the last service
shall receive in life. God bless you, my
friend And now go on. You can't
help these poor fellows here l know
you can't help me any further. Go on
with your regiment and leave us. But
here, Milney, take this letter, and when
you are back In Gods Ohio country give
it to Nina Clark, and tell her that her
promise made a man of me when was
nigh desperation and despair. Tell her,
| say God bless her for it,"
"Mina Clark" exclaimed Captain
Milney, starting back. ''Mina Clark !
is there no mistaken l thought it was
-0
"No-no-Mina Clark. I can't tell
you now, Milney. I'm growing weak.
Goodbye, Milney-good-bye
If any inward trouble showed itself in
the Captains face none could see it in
the gloom. He was silent but an in
slant, and then SAID slowly and firmly,
but in a greatly altered voice:
Major Galton, am going to put you
on my horse and forward you to Chat
tanooga. You shall be your own mes
sengcr to Nina Clark. You have some
thing to live for, and you will live !
While lit does not natter
Had the Major known that Captain
Alilney was himself wounded-a painful
hurt in the foot, not dangerous, but
diSabling-his protests might have been
vigorous, but they would not have
swerved the Captain. AS it was, the un-
expected urn seemed to give the Major
a new lease of life. In an instance he
had resolved to live-he who moment
before had hidden his friend good bye
forever. Astride the Captains horse he
seemed to get out another lease of life,
and ali this stood him in good stead.
The troops, tired and dispirited as they
were, moved rapidly on the road, and
the Majors horse kept pace with them.
Long before the night was gone Major
GaltOn was safe In an ambulance and up
the way to Chattanooga with not a
thought of anything but rest and sleep.
And Captain Milneyl Why, the cap
tain Jared badly He had already been
too much about on his injured foot, and
it was swollen and stiff. lie started to
hobble after his men, but it was so hard
that in half an hour he gave it up and
lay down by the roadside, mile or two
behind the rearmost of the retreating sol
dicrs. 1t seemed almost as if Major Gal
tons new life and spirit had been abb
stractel from the Captains store, leaving
the latter ambitionless and despairing.
IL am whipped" he said to himself,
as he lay down and gave up to WEAKNESS
and pain. | am whipped; but not by
the enemy back there. No; woman
did it!n
AT daylight next morning Captain Mil
ney was a wounded prisoner Of war,
bound for some Southern military prison.
Il am whipped, " he said, as on the night
before, and prepared as we'll as he could
to take it philosophicaly.
Seven or eight months afterweId the
Captain awoke one morning from the de-
lirium of long fever. lie was in a hos
pital near Washington. When he first
became conscious things about him
looked almost as strange as the fantastic
visions of that dream haunted fever land
from which he had Just emerged. All
Ia aNu IL. II